


Under the blue moon: The distance between you and me

by Malefiquinn



Series: Under the blue moon [2]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malefiquinn/pseuds/Malefiquinn
Summary: With the pieces in place and the Cylons chasing what remains of humanity, Bill and Laura try to deal with their past, Lee learns to lead the pilots, Kara lives up to her mistakes and Val struggles to find her place in the fleet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All these characters are property of Ron D. Moore, I own nothing. If only I did... 
> 
> Season 1 is in, finally! I look forward to your feedback. And again, thank you for your comments and kudos on this series!
> 
> It's worth mentioning that this chapter contains spoilers for Blood & Chrome, though if you haven't seen it yet... I don't really recommend it either. The bar left by the reimagined series was just too high ;)
> 
> As always, big thanks to my beta Jules. Enjoy!

_After a certain point, you just can’t go back to where you started. Even if you want to._

 

* * *

  

"So you had a call sign?" she asked as she placed a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. The leaves from the tree in which Bill sat against moved constantly with the wind, compelling Laura to sometimes obscure her lovely features with her bare hand to protect her eyes from the intense Caprican summer sun.

"Yeah, all pilots do."

"What was yours?"

"Husker."

"What's a ' _Husker'_?" she said, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

"I am." He chuckled. "I didn't start as a Viper pilot, Commander Nash assigned me to the Raptor squadron because while I was eager to get my hands dirty, I was too cocky for his taste."

Laura snorted. "I can't imagine why." He flashed her a look full of false disdain and she giggled, which in turn made Bill grab her arm and pull her towards him. "Ow! Wait!" Her protests where swiftly muffled by a laugh as he placed her sideways onto his lap and hugged her by the waist. She slapped his chest playfully before melting into his touch. "You are _impossible_ , Bill Adama."

"Yeah, okay," he admitted, smiling as well. Laura leaned against his chest as she listened, her temple resting on his shoulder. "My co-pilot lost his partner and took it out on the replacement, me. He assumed I was a farmer boy from Tauron before I joined the Fleet; hence, Husker. So when I finally sat on a Viper, everyone was already calling me that. Said it matched my voice over the comms." He shrugged slightly, just enough not to move her. "Husky."

She hummed in response. She could picture him perfectly— fifteen years younger, not exactly an adult yet but anxious to prove his worth and kick Cylons' asses, and too wrapped around himself to accept a call sign that was intended to make fun of him. The thought made her smile fondly.

"Is that where they come from, then?" she asked next, raising her head slightly to catch his eyes. As those startling green eyes waited expectantly, Bill couldn't help but love her down to her teacher curiosity.

"Yes and no. Can be from anyone: your squad mates during basic flight, your instructors... your superiors when you get your first assignment," he explained. "Sometimes you get caught in whatever awful name your friends come up with as a joke. Sometimes your call sign gets a renewal, although it's not that common, if you have a big change in your life. It works pretty much like a nickname."

She hummed again. "It suits you," she decided. "I like it."

Resting her head back on his shoulder, Laura sighed contently as Bill pressed a kiss against her hair. He took the opportunity to draw lazy circles on her back as well, and the couple remained in silence for a while as Laura closed her eyes, eager to lose herself among the sounds of the park: wind dancing between leaves, people laughing, Bill's steady breath beneath her. She could stay in that perfect moment forever.

"You'll fall asleep." Bill spoke in his low tone, making her smile anew.

"No, I won't," she said, fully aware the sound of his voice could indeed lull her to sleep. So instead, she opened her eyes and looked at him, ready to ask him another question about his service—

"Madam President!" Billy's voice, full of distress, brought her back as she jerked her hand away from the Viper's hull. The aide came to a halt when he registered her, realizing he had clearly interrupted something.

And he had, in a way. Laura had found herself wandering through the lower decks of _Colonial One_ , until she had arrived at the Viper Lee had flown during the initial attack. The crew of _Galactica_ had scheduled a retrieval now that the battlestar was reorganizing its resources for what was to come, but had had other priorities so far.

The tail numbering read N7242C. Just below the cockpit window Laura had distinguished a clear _LT. WILLIAM ADAMA_ in capital letters, painted on a plate screwed to the spacecraft. She had placed her fingertips on the last word of the nameplate, her touch delicate as a feather as if she somehow expected the commander to show up at any given time. _Husker_. How could a call sign that meant nothing to her stir so many memories inside of her, so many ghosts she thought she had already buried decades ago? Perhaps because it meant the world to Bill, and he had been her everything once.

Her aide had found her there instead, reminiscing about a word she knew by heart. "What is it, Billy?" she asked, masking the awkwardness she felt under her most professional tone.

"The Cylons found us, ma'am. All ships are making emergency jumps."

Laura nodded, trying to ignore the sudden and unpleasant sensation in her gut. "Let's go," she instructed, walking quickly towards the stairs with Billy behind her. Her presence in the cockpit served for nothing, but she felt the need to be there nonetheless.

18 hours. The fleet had 18 hours of relative peace, barely enough to unscramble the remaining people, address some critical concerns and get some hours of sleep after jumping away from Ragnar. She had even managed to find a window of opportunity to allow herself some alone time... and now, she had to get back to her new routine of dealing with one crisis after another. Quite literally.

 

* * *

 

 "Jump 236 complete."

"All civilian ships present and accounted for, sir," Dee informed, just like she had done two hundred, thirty-five times before. It had become like some sort of cue for the rest of CIC to slow down, now that the Cylons were gone— for the next thirty-three minutes.

"Start the clock," Tigh snapped, resisting the urge to rub his eyes and give in to exhaustion. They needed to plot the next jump. "Mr. Gaeta—"

"On it, sir," he answered as quickly as he could, managing to diminish the weary timbre in his voice. He moved away from his console and towards the star map already deployed from the last cycle.

"Commander, I've got _Colonial One_ on the line." Dee didn't wait for confirmation to put the call through, as the president called whenever she could.

Bill gave a slight nod and picked up the receiver. "Adama."

"Commander." Laura's voice ran smoothly through the line, washing him like a wave of salt water despite the hoarseness in it from the lack of sleep. He could almost _feel_ a rush of awareness going through his whole body —which was ridiculous, of course, he couldn't literally feel it—, waking him up. "How was the last cycle?"

"No losses," he informed. If he wasn't so tired, he would have puffed his chest in pride.

She sighed with relief. "That's good to hear." She spoke slowly, evidently exhausted as well. Then, her voice became a whisper as she asked, "Is Lee alright?"

There was a brief pause on the line and Laura held her breath. Even though her mind was completely focused on her duties —receiving the census updates and ships supplies requirements' from Billy, reading captains' concerns, coordinating refueling efforts for smaller ships—, she just couldn't stop thinking about Lee. She had urged him to leave the military less than a week ago and he hadn't exactly disagreed with her, but that wasn't an option anymore... she had every reason to be concerned for her son.

"He's holding up." _Just like the rest of us._ Bill had no doubt Lee had risen to the occasion and was the best CAG _Galactica_ could have at the moment. Five days without sleep, more than two hundred cycles and most of them had zero losses. He was sure that was Lee's doing.

Laura flashed a drained smile towards her phone and nodded, even when she knew Bill couldn't see her. "I'm glad. If you talk to him..."

"I'll tell him you called," he said, like he had done each time she asked about Lee.

"Thank you, Commander." Nothing she said was new at this point, so she just repeated her own words from her previous calls. "Let me know if anything changes."

 

* * *

 

The stacks of documents on the desk eventually gave way to another one resting on the floor, accumulated by the feet of it. The _'To be Addressed Later'_ pile grew on each cycle, as Val kept bringing more and more printed papers with her each time she came back from the cockpit, the never ending concerns of the fleet taking a toll on the already exhausted personnel.

"Two more ships presented malfunctions with their FTLs last cycle. That makes nine plus _Colonial One_ ," she said, shortly before handing the reports to Laura and occupying one of the free passenger seats close to the desk. Falling on the cushioned furniture, she rubbed her eyes in an effort to stay awake.

"Thank you. We're cutting it a little close..." Laura gave half of the new pile to Billy and glanced at the young woman over the rim of her glasses as she suggested, "You should get some sleep." Val had been helpful so far, but she had no obligation to keep on working. And yet, she had been a bridge between her mother's improvised office and the comm traffic from the cockpit, for which Laura was extremely grateful.

"No, it's okay. I wouldn't be able to anyway." She shook her head as she spoke, stopping mid-motion when she decided it was too much of an effort. "There's not enough time between jumps. Besides..." She didn't finish the sentence and instead closed her eyes. The continuous use of the FTL drives was tiresome for the ships as well, sooner or later one was bound to give up. And the thought of leaving people behind again was terrifying.

"At least the Cylons coming every thirty minutes means the press hasn't had time to reorganize after the attacks." Billy shot a small grin at his boss and Val giggled at the side effect, Laura drawing half a smile as she took her glasses off and rubbed her temples wearily.

"Lords help us all when they do. Explaining that the president and the commander have two children together and are still in their positions should take some doing," Laura mused.

"So don't let them argue." It was Val who replied, raising from her seat and taking a step towards them to lower her voice. "Release a statement explaining yours and Dad's situation instead of holding a press conference. I highly doubt anyone would disagree now."

"She has a point, ma'am," Billy conceded. Val felt a wave of heat rushing to her cheeks by his endorsement, which he failed to notice entirely. "Who else would volunteer for this?"

"No one. No one in their right minds anyway." She sighed, and the three of them paused at her words to glance over at Gaius Baltar who was curled into one of the passenger seats, his eyes darting to the empty seat beside him nervously.

When Laura and Billy looked back at each other, she rolled her eyes and he chuckled under his breath as both of them stared down at the expecting paperwork. Barely two seconds had passed when Billy cleared his throat. "Madam President, update on the head count." He spoke with dread as he held the piece of paper for her to take it, enough proof that the printed number on it wouldn't please her.

"That's my cue," Val mumbled, leaving them to go through the documents —which were practically a ritual by now— without further distractions. As she walked to an empty seat, however, Baltar caught her eye again and she approached him carefully, slouching as she reached him. "Doctor Baltar?"

He turned to her alarmingly, and she wondered if he had been so lost in thought that she had somehow interrupted his continuous stare at the empty seat. But as soon as he focused his eyes on her, it was gone. "Y-yes?"

"Are you okay, Doctor?" she asked. The man appeared to be in the same bad shape as anybody else since the Cylons' relentless attacks despite dozing off in fits, and even when she observed him sleeping, he would seem restless. But he was a valuable asset, as his intellect was their best bet at finding a permanent solution for the Cylon thread, when— _if_ they managed to escape. "Do you need anything?"

A blond woman leaned towards him from the adjacent seat. "Do you want children, Gaius?" she asked, tilting her head as she spoke and toying with his hair.

"What? No—" He glanced briefly at his side before acknowledging the redhead again. "I mean yes, I'm fine. I appreciate the gesture, miss..."

"Vallaria," she reminded him. "Everyone calls me Val, though."

"Procreation is one of God's commandments," the Cylon pointed out. Evaluating the girl from head to toe, she smirked. "Wouldn't she be a fine candidate to carry them?"

Baltar straightened, suddenly interested in the idea. Not regarding children, of course, but Six was right in calling Val attractive; it would be a waste for him not to give it a try.

"That is a... beautiful name, Valerie,'" he assured her.

"Vallaria," she corrected him. "Like the main character in _The Mirror's Shadow_? My parents read that book when they were dating, so when I was born..." She shrugged. "But really, everyone calls me Val."

"Of course, my apologies. Vallaria. I mean, Val. Your name is as unusual as its owner is beautiful." She flashed a polite smile towards him at the compliment.

Six's eyes darkened, turning her expression into a mischievous smile. "I'm sure the president and the commander will be _ecstatic_ to welcome you into the family." To Val's surprise, Baltar's face became paler and his look widened abruptly. "Be careful, Gaius... I want _us_ to have a child," the Cylon warned, suddenly not pleased at how easily he had taken the bait.

Val stared at him for a while. _He_ was supposed to be their salvation? _Frakking nutcase_. She chose to attribute it to the lack of sleep, however, knowing that everyone dealt with it differently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes! Thank you for your concern, Miss Adama. There's nothing to worry about." He waved his hand dismissively, trying to sound as reassuring as possible; the girl was pretty enough, just like her mother, but none of them were worth it. If they managed to escape from the Cylons, Gaius wasn't stupid enough to elicit the rage of the people in power when there were other pretty women around— basic survival instinct.

"Okay. Well, if you need any—"

"What was that?" he asked, hanging his head around the corner of his seat and looking at Billy. His red-rimmed eyes stared back at the empty seat as his hand clutched the armrest beside him, and then at Val before jumping out of his seat and walking slowly towards the desk. "So sorry for interrupting you— and you, as well," he added, glancing briefly back at her, "while you were speaking— you were just saying?" His hand moved restlessly, down his pants, tugging at his sleeve and pulling his jacket closed, as if he could not stop and be still.

"I was saying that a Doctor Amarak had requested to speak with the President," Billy answered cautiously, eyeing Baltar with a mixture of fear and pity. The man was odd —very charming, of course— always polite and personable, but undoubtedly the destruction of the colonies and their subsequent escape had been too much for him.

"Doctor Amarak, I see." Baltar attempted to flash a smile at Laura, but failed to keep it on his face.

"You know him," Laura stated, her arms still folded across her chest as she waited for the man to process her question and reply, something that seemed to take him a startling amount of time.

"Yes!" He spoke over his shoulder at last, before looking back at her and repeating himself. "Yes. I used to work with him at the Ministry of Defense." She stared at him for a beat longer, smiling uncomfortably at his weird demeanor before Billy broke the tension by speaking up.

"It says here that he's uncovered important information, regarding how the Cylons were able to defeat Colonial defenses." Baltar seemed to grow even more agitated at the aide's words, nodding as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Val raised her eyebrows and moved to her mother's side with curiosity.

"Were you...? Going to speak to him? Perhaps I should speak to him if you’re busy—" He glanced from Billy to Laura and back again rapidly, and she shook her head and held up a hand, opening her mouth to protest.

"Actually..." Billy answered first. "I think he wanted to speak directly with the President. Uh, sounded urgent."

"Must be very, very important." Six eyed him with what appeared to be real concern over his cover, leaving her teasing aside for the moment. "Maybe something about a certain traitor in the president's inner circle?"

Laura observed Baltar for a moment as he touched his throat nervously and glanced around, as if close to tears. She shot a glance at Billy before speaking. "There's not enough time before we jump. I want him on board first thing during the next cycle." Billy nodded and scribbled a note, and she glanced up to see Baltar still there, staring vacantly into empty air. The man was frakking insane, really; Laura could only pity his inability to accept the destruction of the Colonies. "Oh, thank you, Doctor." She spoke softly and he gave her a nervous look, nodding repeatedly— in the same way a chicken did.

"If I can help." He nodded a few more times before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor and into the next compartment. She frowned after him and shook her head slightly, glancing down at Billy.

"He's a strange one, isn't he?" she mused aloud, looking down at Billy, who rolled his eyes.

" _Cuckoo_!" Billy sang and Laura nodded while Val let out a muffled snort of laughter.

"Alright, we have to go through these reports. Honey, can you contact CIC and let the commander know about my meeting with Doctor Amarak?" She sat down again in front of the documents and raised her eyes to glance at Val. "Perhaps he'll want to be present too. If that's the case, find out if he can work it into his schedule; if not, we'll just have to give him a report on it."

 

* * *

 

 "DC." Dee handed him another document as he and Tigh slowly walked down away from CIC. She had decided to deliver the reports like this now, following him around and shoving a pen into his hand as she exchanged one report for the next, giving only a brief acronym as to its origin as he checked them. There was no time for anything else. DC was Cottle's.

"Twelve more cases of nervous exhaustion, that makes sixty-one." He signed the report after barely more than a glance, handing it back to Dee as he spoke. "Have the doc start pumpin' them up with stimulants," he ordered, glancing at his XO as he walked with his hand extended behind him, awaiting the next report. "And get them back on the line. Pilots too."

"Fuel report," Dee delivered.

"One out of every three, every other cycle." Tigh gave him an eye roll followed by a soft snort.

"That's gonna come back to bite us in the ass," he pointed out, and Bill shrugged at his words.

"Yeah, well, we have too much work and not enough people to do it." They would have to start recruiting civilians eventually— but who knew when they would have the time to even seek out possible candidates within the fleet.

"Fuel report." Dee spoke again, barely keeping up and absolutely exhausted, placing the next paper into his hand as Bill frowned.

"I already signed one of these." He handed it back to her and she paused, staring blankly for a moment before shaking her head.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Comm traffic, from the president." Bill stared down at the report in his hand for a moment, his thoughts briefly traveling to Laura as his movement came to a halt. "Miss Lynch called too," Dee kept talking, this time with a minor awkwardness in her tone. "She wanted to know the next time you'd be free, sir."

"Right. Is this my ten minutes or yours?" he asked Tigh, who shook his head immediately.

"Yours. I took ten last time."

"I'll see you guys in Combat." Saul's hand clapped his shoulder for a moment and Bill turned down the corridor, reading over the messages from Laura's office as he walked to the quarters that were Carolanne's now. She had been adamant on seeing him— contacting Dee every other cycle— asking for Bill. He was once again due to visit her, as had been for the past... several hundred jumps.

In the end, he was four feet away from her quarters when the report he read made him stop completely. An unknown scientist requested an audience with the president— to inform her about the fall of the Colonies. Something about his urgency didn't sit right with Bill; why couldn't this Doctor Amarak wait until the fleet had a break from the Cylons? Could this information help with their current situation? Whatever the case, he would feel more comfortable if the meeting took place aboard _Galactica_. He had already caved on not having _Colonial One_ docked inside the battlestar's landing bay, even when it was probably the safest option for Laura and Val's ship, since every inch of space was needed for combat landings as a result of having a single one working. He would rather have the meeting on his terms, just in case.

He knocked on the hatch anyway, and soon enough felt Carolanne's arms around him. "Took you long enough to come." She spoke softly despite her chiding as she moved closer for a kiss.

Bill met her lips and closed his eyes for a while, falling into the distraction willingly. But the report from the presidential spacecraft came back into his mind and he sighed, shooting her an apologetic look as they separated. "I can't stay," he said.

"What?! Bill, you just got here!"

"Something came up." She arched a brow accusingly, but Bill would be the first to admit that stuff kept _coming up_ each cycle. "That's just how it is, Anne. I'll see you in about an hour," he promised, even when he felt that lately— an hour seemed to last a day, as every second ticked loudly on the clocks around the ship.

"If the Cylons don't get us before that," she retorted. "Try to get some rest, Bill. You're no use to anyone if you can't stay awake. Let the young ones do the heavy lifting for a cycle or two."

Bill let out a weary chuckle and shook his head slightly. It had to be him. He had to lead his men, give example. "I'll see you in an hour," he repeated as he reeled her in for another kiss, her hand reaching his neck to hold him close in response. His lips moved lazily over hers, one more clue of his tired state, and Carolanne's heart ached for him. He shouldn't have the burden of fifty thousand lives on him, not in this state. She had no doubt Bill Adama was the best person for the job, but that didn't mean it was fair for him. "Get some sleep for me," he joked.

Cupping his cheek, Carolanne grinned despite the sadness in her eyes. "An hour. I'll hold you to that."

He nodded and closed his eyes at her touch instinctively; he knew his body was ready to give into the exhaustion and he needed to leave before he fell asleep on his feet. Reluctantly, Bill withdrew from her arms and gave Carolanne a last reassuring glance before retracing his steps up the passageway he had just came through.

 

* * *

 

 Tigh's eyebrows could have reached the ceiling when he saw Bill walking back into CIC. "Your ten?" he asked simply and Bill shook his head as he reached his XO.

"Change of plans. Dee, get me the president." The young officer nodded, establishing the comm link swiftly. "Madam President. About this Amarak— I want to hear what he has to say." He spoke evenly, deciding not to mention his concerns for the time being.

"Good. Can you spare a Raptor, Commander? I understand your pilots are under enough stress as it is, so, I'm thinking maybe one of _Colonial One_ 's can fly it."

"There is a problem, though. Colonel Tigh gets his rest on the next cycle, I have to be in CIC," he continued. "Won't make it unless you bring him here."

Laura took her time to consider it carefully. Their working relationship hadn't been long —about six days, give or take— and she had already realized _Galactica_ was much more than just his ship— it was a bastion where her presidency sat diminished in favor of Commander Adama's power. If she agreed, there was a strong possibility he would be conducting the meeting instead of her. There was a reason why they barely had spoken to each other all these years... but they were back on the same side, Laura had to remember that. And she needed the information.

"Very well, I'll have _Colonial One_ docked after the next jump," she agreed. "Try to get some rest, Commander."

"You too, Madam President."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continuous support!
> 
> All the credit to my beta Jules ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

_Sometimes it is easier to see the light when you stand partly in the darkness._

 

* * *

 

 

Reports from the fleet usually took close to five minutes to get to her, and Laura had grown accustomed to waiting until the machinery in the cockpit printed the papers for Val to bring over. But this time, Val was late. Val was never late. Laura followed the hands on her watch as time went by, one second following another until two full minutes past her usual time, Val walked in with the reports, looking paler than ever.

Laura waited for the bad news, because surely she wouldn't look like this if she carried good news. "What is it?"

"A ship didn't make the jump." Val's words came as a broken whisper, and Billy held her arm when he noticed her faltering knees and eased her back into her usual spot. Laura took almost a full minute to grasp what she was saying as she moved over to her own chair and slid into it, the sentence echoing through her mind mercilessly.

"A ship? A whole ship— exactly— how?" It was a rhetorical question, really, but she had to ask it anyway.

"It could have been a comm error, or they got the wrong coordinates, or their FLT failed..." Val listed nervously, trying to fill in the silence with a stream of answers. When she got no reply from either, she continued, "They might have been destroyed before the jump."

Laura held up a hand to silence her daughter, slowly shaking her head. "We don't know though, do we? They could have been left behind, or someone could have made a mistake. But whatever the case, the people on _Galactica_ are beyond exhausted. It _could_ have been a mistake, but this is the Cylons doing." She took a deep breath then as she buried her fingertips on the armrests of her chair, holding on for the impending punch. "Which ship?"

"The _Olympic Carrier_ ," Val answered, dropping her sight to the sheets of paper she was carrying before placing them on the desk.

Billy anticipated the next question and searched for the ship name in the documents of the last head count. "1,345 souls aboard."

Her grip was completely lost when the air left her lungs and a sharp surge of pain crossed her head. Over a thousand people... her eyes darted over to the whiteboard and she pressed her fingers into her temples, as if trying to force the ache away. She stood in a slow, almost tentative movement, and turned towards the whiteboard. Billy had procured it from Gods know where, the previous number still there in her pristine handwriting, pitch black against the white surface. She could only stared at it— over a _thousand_ people to be subtracted— her body fell backwards and she leaned heavily on her desk.

"I'll do it," Billy offered, walking past her and she watched with tears in her eyes as her aide wiped the board clean and methodically drew the new population count, the marker squeaking uncomfortably with each trace. 47,973. Every number he wrote made her eyes burn, but she stood there stubbornly until he finished. He then turned back to her and they exchanged a quiet glance before he moved back and took his usual seat in front of her desk. She paused and blinked— before letting out a breath when she felt like the tears were no longer a threat.

"Okay, next crisis."

Billy sighed heavily behind her as he examined the new set of papers Val had brought with her. "Uh, list of calls."

"Yes." She nodded in agreement before a thought crossed her mind. "But first, where is the doctor that's supposed to be on board— what's his name?"

"Doctor Amarak," Billy answered, and she turned around to face him and nod.

"Yes." She let herself fall into her chair wearily and eyed him across the desk. "Yes, Doctor Amarak." Her words came out as a sigh as Billy went through his papers again. She shouldn't be sitting— sleep could claim her easily this way.

"Umh... He was on the _Olympic Carrier_ ," Billy answered slowly, and she sighed again. "I didn't realize, ma'am."

"Frak," Val snapped as she covered her face with a hand.

"Language," Laura scolded, earning a quick, albeit quiet apology from her daughter. "There is no need for us to dock on _Galactica_ , then. Go tell the pilots, please," she instructed, and Val left for the cockpit with a nod.

Sinking wearily into her chair, she exchanged a silent look with Billy and tears pooled back into her eyes. This brilliant young man didn't deserve to be in such a dire situation— she expected him to keep on working despite the sleep deprivation and the Cylon threat, and he did so without any complaint. The Gods had been extremely kind to send him to her at this stage of her life, as if she had some luck at the end of the world after all. She sniffed as she composed herself and placed her glasses back on her nose.

"It's alright," she assured him, softly, hoping her words would somehow lift part of the burden he was carrying. "On to the calls, okay?"

 

* * *

 

"Maybe this time."

Saul Tigh had repeated those same words aloud as they stood in CIC and watched the clock every cycle, every thirty-three minutes for the last five days. It hadn't been 'this time' yet. Nonetheless, he had said it every time as they waited— stared into the digital timer before the Cylons jumped in.

But _this time_ was different, apparently. The clock wound down and yet no Cylons showed up, but even nobody moved or dared to breathe; they all stared at the red and orange screen for a moment before Bill pulled himself out of the collective stupor. "DRADIS?" he asked Gaeta, not moving his gaze.

"No enemy contacts," the officer confirmed swiftly, speaking as if he couldn't believe it himself. The CIC crew shifted uneasily in their spots, all eyes on their CO as they waited for instructions. But Bill kept his own fixed on the clock, the collection of zeros blinking back without any answer whatsoever. Maybe this time...

"Keep the clock running," he commanded and the numbers changed at last, beginning a steady count up, just like the timer had counted down moments ago.

"What do you think?" Tigh wondered quietly next to him, the CIC bursting back into activity as if nothing happened— which was exactly the case. The irony that getting no contacts at all felt almost as unsettling as getting them was not lost on Bill.

"I think we wait," he said simply.

When the clock marked forty-five minutes, preceded by a plus sign, Bill closed his eyes and twisted his neck around. Most of the crew had finally dozed off in their seats, but they were still alive, and the tightness in his chest loosed slightly as he glanced across at Tigh.

"Get me the president," he told Dee, who moved in her station quickly to connect the call.

 

* * *

 

 

_Colonial One_ had never been this quiet. Laura sat in her chair, unable to sleep— her hands folded on her lap as she stared ahead at a window on the farthest side of the room and waited. For word from _Galactica_. For a Cylon attack. For the familiar pull and tug of a jump. Anything.

She had no concept of day and night aboard the ship yet, as everything outside was always black, and the amount of time she had already spent continuously awake didn't help at all. But the civilians around her— all of them had taken this unprecedented break and fallen fast asleep. Even Billy, who had taken the cushioned seat Val usually sat on when she wasn't fetching reports, stood completely still despite the file opened on his lap. Her daughter slept some rows away, next to Wally, to whom she had been talking before the exhaustion had finally claimed them both.

So when the phone buzzed, softly but remarkably sharp in contrast to the silence of the room, she picked it up before it could disturb anyone. Some people stirred here and there, but none of them were permanently out of their sleep. "Yes?"

"Madam President, I have Commander Adama for you on the line," the pilot informed.

"Yes, put him through." There was a distant click and then a static filled silence before another click signaled the start of the call.

"Madam President." Bill's voice filled her ear in a soft mumble.

"Commander," she greeted him in return, fatigue leaking trough her voice. Two words— he had said two words alone, but his deep tone was enough to lull her close to sleep. So instead, she chose to focus on her watch, forcing her mind to remember the time of the last jump. "There have been no Cylons for... eighty minutes," she added, assuming that was the reason behind the call.

"Yeah. Forty-seven past the thirty-three mark," he confirmed.

"Why this time? Was it something that you did?"

"We had a new plan, but we didn't have time to implement it yet," he answered slowly and she nodded, though she was aware he couldn't see it.

"Well, we lost that ship during the last cycle, the _Olympic Carrier_. Did that have something to do with it?" The confusion was evident in her tone, just as much as her utter exhaustion— but they all were, and his sigh echoed hers. And her question was just as far-fetched— how could he know that?

"Possibly." Bill shared her suspicions but didn't mention anything else, and she barely heard his breathing through the line. She wanted to sleep so badly —Gods, she _needed it_ — but couldn't, not as long as the commander or her had no clue of what was going on. After a while, she realized he was still silent and she listened, trying to figure out if the line had gone dead.

"Are you there?" she asked softly, her hoarse voice a cruel reminder of the rest she wasn't getting, or the need of a glass of water at the very least.

The whisper that came through the receiver mixed up his insides, as the vulnerability and uncertainty in her tone were all but masked. What would he have given to have Laura in front of him and hold her in his arms, consequences be damned. Just to reassure her she wasn't alone in this and even if it meant getting scolded as a result.

But he told himself it was only the tiredness thinking, and settled for a small cough as he said, "Yeah. I'm here."

"What do we do now, Commander?" She spoke slowly, clutching the phone as if her whole conscious state depended on it. It was funny, really— how she didn't seem able to follow her own process of thought as she spoke to Bill, but felt painfully awake before the call. "I've got people on the verge over here." Her eyes located Val, and then Baltar— and Laura hoped Bill couldn't tell that she herself was included in that group.

"We're gonna go to Condition Two. We have to take advantage of this time, let our people get some rest," he finally answered, and she frowned into the phone. She had picked up military knowledge over the years, first from her ex-husband and later from Zak and Lee, but she had no frakking clue of what Condition Two _meant_. Was it a stand-by? Was there a Three? Or a Four? Would the crew from _Galactica_ get some rest, including the pilots?

"Alright," she agreed before clearing her throat. "And how long do we, um, stay in Condition Two?"

"Until I'm satisfied they're not gonna return," he said sharply, and she jumped slightly in her chair. "It's a military decision." Laura felt a sudden flow of irritation washing over her and words coiled up in her throat, she could not believe he was already making use of the concession she had agreed to. He hadn't wasted any time, had he? But she remembered he had probably slept even _less_ than her, if that was even possible, and resisted the urge to reply something along the lines of ' _I never implied otherwise, idiot_ ' and ' _Why did you call me, then?_ '

"Yes, it is, I know that. You're right, and I defer to your decision. And Commander..." she began, pausing for a moment as if giving Bill enough time to cool down, or maybe because her own brain needed time to process the rest of her thought. "Let your men and women know how grateful I am for the job that they're doing." _Especially Lee_ , she wanted to add, rubbing the bridge of her nose instead. "Please, thank them for me."

"Thank you, Madam President," he answered at last, in a more even tone. "Thank you." His last words were softer, or maybe she was just imagining it as the line went dead.

"What did he say?" Billy asked behind her, making her jump in her seat and almost dropping the phone. She held it back just in time, mindful of the sound it could have produced by collapsing on top the desk when he slid into his usual seat. "Sorry, ma'am," he quickly apologized, and she shook her head tenderly.

" _Galactica_ will be on Condition Two for the time being. A stand-by, I suppose. Which means we rest." She sighed as she placed the phone down and rested her chin on her hand with her elbow on the table.

"Great. I can take a nap, two hours tops, and then start drafting the press release," he mumbled, efficient as ever. "And if we stay at Condition Two, I'll contact _Galactica_ 's doctor. Though you might want to tell the commander first?" he added tentatively and she suppressed a new sigh. He wasn't going to forget her promise, was he?

"Press release first," she agreed, casually ignoring the rest. As much as she dreaded telling the public about something for the press to chew on, anything was better than having _the cancer talk_ with Bill.

 

* * *

 

 

"Oh, a couple hour's rack time does sound awfully sweet right about now," Tigh muttered as he and Bill moved through CIC, coming to a halt pass Damage Control and near the exit hatch.

"You deserve it," Bill answered. The whole crew did, but he was aware of the extra work his XO had been doing, and yet he seemed to be in relative better shape than him. He was getting old after all, but Saul just kept going, so who was he to complain?

"You know, the truth is all this has me feeling more alive than I have in years."

"You look that way too," Bill observed, happy to notice that what obscured his gaze was the lack of sleep and not the shadow of alcohol. "It's good to see you without the cup in your hand."

"Aw, don't start," he mumbled in response.

"I know there's a whole lot of people aboard this ship that wish you weren't feeling as good as you are." Bill spoke in a joking tone, hoping to ease the tension brought up by his mention of Tigh's drinking habits.

"If the crew doesn't hate the XO, then he's not doin' his job." He shrugged. "Besides, got to make the Old Man look good," he teased in turn. Saul's joking expression was hard to read as his features barely changed at all, Bill had come to recognize it after years of friendship.

He straightened and replied with a tired smile, "I always look good."

Tigh snorted. "Did you look in a mirror?" Another _sober_ tease. He had something to thank the Cylons for, apparently.

The colonel moved through the hatch and Bill was about to follow him, but opted to speak first. "Seriously... it's one thing to push the crew, it's another to break them," he began, but the rest of his speech was swept under the rug as Gaeta shouted in their direction.

"DRADIS contact!" Alarms started beeping loudly through CIC, making Bill and Tigh strode back to the command table to glance up at the screen. "Bearing 348, carom 120, one ship. Getting recognition signal..." He waited for a beat, and Bill could swear his voice was completely different when he spoke again; relief mixed below his officer tone. "It's the _Olympic Carrier_ , sir!"

As he walked over to his usual position in CIC with Tigh behind him, he felt a sense of disquiet as he took in the news. They had been gone for almost an hour and a half, enough time for the Cylons to board the ship. And if that didn't happen, why come back now? _How_ had they evaded the Cylons? "Is that confirmed?"

"It's confirmed, sir," Dee responded with haste.

Tigh breathed beside him. "Thank the Gods."

He couldn't stop his eyes as they went from the DRADIS screen to stare at the timer, the sensation of dread increasing with each passing second. "Action stations," he commanded quickly, lowering his eyes to glance at Saul. The shock in his XO's face was clear as day, but he chose to ignore it anyway as he spun on his heel to face his officers over the Communications Center. "Put the fleet into Condition One. I want all Vipers manned and ready, but keep them in the tubes. Mr. Gaeta," he called next, while Tigh began the announcement to the rest of the ship.

"Sir?"

"Restart the clock: thirty-three minutes." Gaeta opened the clock, resetting it manually and then resetting the digital one as well. As the familiar numbers reappeared on screen, Bill caught Tigh glancing across at him as he monitored the new activity bursting from everywhere around them.

"I hope you're wrong."

"So do I. So do I," he murmured wearily, more to himself than his best friend, his words muffled by the klaxons wailing all over the ship.

 

* * *

 

 

Noises from _Galactica_ 's CIC poured from the speakers of _Colonial One_ as soon as the news had spread— the missing ship was back. Laura had been elated for an instant, only to realize that something didn't add up; Lieutenant Dualla calling and asking her to stay on the line was proof enough.

She couldn't hear Bill at the moment, but she understood his command when the young officer relayed the message over to the Raptor pilot. Nodding silently, Laura crossed her arms as she waited for the exchange between her —Boomer, she remembered her from the first hours after the attack— and what seemed to be the pilot of the _Olympic Carrier_. She was asking herself the same question, just how exactly had they escaped?

Yet the pilot offered no plausible explanation, freezing Laura to the spot. The Cylons wouldn't just turn away. And then he mentioned Amarak and she exchanged a look with Billy, suspecting it was only an excuse to change the subject.

"Madam President, I strongly recommend that we cut off all wireless communication with that ship right away," Baltar urged out of nowhere, closing the short distance between where he was sitting and her desk in a couple of strides. He spoke quickly, in his usual twitchy self that she had grown used to in the past days as he placed his hands on his hip tentatively, like he didn't know what to do with them.

She uncrossed her arms and stammered an incoherent answer, confused by his sudden interest on the matter. "What— why?" she blurted out without thinking.

"Forgive me for being rude, but— wake up alright?!" he yelled, striking the desk with his opened palm and making her jump in surprise. Val was immediately by her side, perhaps concerned with the possibility of Baltar turning violent, but Laura focused on the desperation in his voice and how it gained a higher pitch. He was a loon, but her instincts were having a bad feeling over the ship and he evidently agreed, which meant he could make sense at the moment. "The only reason the _Olympic Carrier_ is still flying is because the Cylons let them survive. They’ve been tracking that ship all along— there's probably a Cylon agent on board right now!"

"Calm down!" she instructed, raising her voice over Baltar's. "Start over."

"Please, Madam President— I implore you. Listen to me. Please cut off radio communication with that ship before they send, via broadcast signal, another computer virus to infect our ships shortly before they blow us all up." His voice seemed calmer, soothed by her own, but his demeanor remained as frantic as before.

She lowered her eyes to her phone and then exchanged a worried glance with Billy as she said, "Commander Adama, are you on the line?"

Silence greeted her over the speakers for a few seconds and she leaned over her desk, as if that somehow got her closer to Bill. There was a low hum of static for an instant, only to be replaced with the deep voice she knew well. "Yes, Madam President, and I'm inclined to agree with Doctor Baltar."

A rush of adrenaline washed over her as she nodded slowly, the implications of what Baltar had just said racing through her head. "Good, so do I," she concurred. The doctor seemed to calm down at last as he straightened and took a short breath across from her.

"Thank the Gods you were with us," Billy pointed out, but Baltar got slightly agitated by his words.

"God's got nothing to do with this," he mumbled. Laura stared at him intently until he noticed he had no reason for being there anymore and went down the corridor into the direction of the washrooms with certain reluctance, not without shooting a nervous look back at her again.

Laura sank into her seat and they listened to the comm traffic as Bill ordered his pilot to deliver a message by signal light, Dualla relaying it. Soon, the line was quiet again for enough time to worry her. Boomer didn't repeat an answer— because the _Olympic Carrier_ was not answering. "I'm getting a bad feeling about where this is headed."

"So am I," Bill responded softly, as if only for her to listen even when the speakers in the cabin delivered his voice. "If the ship poses a threat to us, we have to eliminate that threat." Closing her eyes, she felt her breath catch in her throat as she evaluated his statement. A ship of the fleet being considered as a threat was hard for her to process, let alone _eliminate_ it... "I suggest we evacuate the passengers and destroy the ship," Bill continued and she took a deep breath.

"That solves the problem if they’re tracking the ship. What if they’re tracking one of the passengers?" She spoke evenly, entwining her fingers and convincing herself that she was simply too tired to mind the lump that took hold of her throat. Laura knew exactly where her words were leading to.

Bill had no answer, and they waited again for the Raptor pilot to give an update on the situation. And when Dualla spoke, to let them know the efforts to raise the _Carrier_ again were unsuccessful and the ship refused to stop, Laura stared blankly ahead. If it didn't back down— would they be forced to shoot their own? Surely, it would stop.

"Order the fleet to execute jump 240. Get us between the fleet and that ship," Bill ordered and Laura felt her heart race. They wouldn't just—

An alarm began beeping over the speakers again, and _Colonial One_ needed nothing else to understand that the Cylons were back. Laura pursed her lips in quiet defeat; it must have been thirty-three minutes since the _Olympic Carrier_ had jumped.

"Radiological alarm!" Dualla's voice was high, and everyone around Laura turned to her in shock. She waited for someone on _Galactica_ to speak again, leaning slightly against the desk, her whole body tense. "It's the Olympic Carrier, sir, they've got nukes on board."

Laura opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ , but Bill's voice flooded the speakers first. "Madam President, we have to eliminate the _Olympic Carrier_ immediately," he said urgently, and she felt the blood pounding through her skull in a steady rhythm.

"There are 1,300 people on that ship," she protested weakly, trying to ignore the lack of alternatives.

"We don’t know that— the Cylons may have captured them already." He spoke in a strict tone. "Look, at this point there's no choice. It's either them or us." His words made sense, she knew, and her hands shook as she tried to steady them by pressing them against the desk. She didn't need to turn around to see the damn whiteboard number in front of her, or the amount of ships jumping outside the windows, or the image of a little girl clutching a doll, whose parents would never be back.

That raised another though in her head, and she focused her sight on the floor as she asked, "Who's on patrol? Who's with Lieutenant Valerii?"

Bill exhaled close to his receiver, giving her the answer she dreaded most before speaking. "Starbuck..." he began, fully aware she wouldn't recognize the call sign and it didn't matter, "and Apollo."

_I won't order my own son to kill civilians_ , she wanted to yell. _You can't expect me to_. Her conversation with Lee before the ceremony replayed in her mind, muffling Bill's insistent voice. Everyone else aboard _Colonial One_ was silent, and she could feel their eyes on her— the weight of their expectations. They expected her to falter. Bill expected it too— no. _Frak_. She blinked and her eyes gained a steely gaze.

_I'm sorry, Lee._ "Do it."

She stayed on the line as Bill gave the order and Dualla relayed it, instructing to cut off the speakers only until her ship's jump; she had given the order, it was only fitting she heard the consequences. She could picture Lee's face in front of an exploding vessel in the meantime, and prayed to the Gods for her eldest to find a way to forgive her.

 

* * *

 

 

Over forty minutes passed after the fleet's last jump, making Bill confident that the Cylons had lost their means of tracking them at last. He dismissed most of his crew into their bunks, running _Galactica_ with only a skeleton crew until his men were fully rested, including Tigh. He had accepted nothing less than his XO getting the first hours of sleep.

Then more time passed by, almost twenty hours without Cylons. The battlestar returned to its usual schedule and Bill was back into CIC after six hours in his cabin, having even taken a shower and shaved again. Life aboard the ship was slowly falling into place, with a rag-tag fleet of sixty-two more vessels counting on them to protect them. And guiding them to a new home, wherever it was.

Satisfied that he wasn't needed at the moment, Bill decided to leave for several minutes to check on Lee. Laura's instinct previous to the destruction of the _Olympic Carrier_ wasn't wrong at all, and he felt the need to reassure his son that pulling the trigger had been an imperative. Therefore, he shot a glance at Tigh and nodded slightly. "Colonel Tigh, you have the con."

"Sir." He saluted, and Bill strode purposefully to the hatch after mirroring the gesture.

"Commander," Dee followed after him, catching him near the hatch. "Message from _Colonial One_ , sir." The officer handed over an official-looking document and went back to her post quickly, making him arch a brow with interest. They usually waited for him to read the paper and give his instructions.

Eyeing the length of the printed text, Bill decided to read it on his way to the ready room instead. The document had the words ' _Press release_ ' on the title, as well as the colonial seal just before it. He had no doubt it had been sent to every ship in the fleet now that the government was back in action.

What he didn't expect was the _information_ it held— a brief explanation of President Roslin's marriage to one William Adama, who also happened to be the commanding officer of the battlestar _Galactica_. It had dates —the wedding, twenty-seven years ago, and the divorce, seventeen years ago— as well as Lee's and Val's names, and Bill felt a pulse of disgust flowing through his veins at the clinical way the document described such an important part of his personal life. He knew politicians had to inevitably expose themselves to the public, but he hated to be caught in between.

Worst of all, the official document finalized with the assurance that given the amount of time passed since their break-up, their jobs wouldn't be compromised by their past and so, President Roslin felt no need to ask for Commander Adama's resignation. She trusted the military's sense of professionalism, shrewdly implying that there were not enough options left to replace him in any case.

Bill stopped in the middle of the passageway as he finished reading and rolled his eyes. _His_ resignation? He had over four decades worth of military career, while his ex-wife had been a _teacher_ for most of her life, save for Adar's intrusion in her career about thirteen years ago. If their history rendered them incapable of working together, it was obvious to him that _she_ was the one who needed to resign.

When his anger subsided, he resumed his walk as he proceeded to crumple the paper into a ball and place it inside his uniform pocket to throw it away later; recycling be damned. Besides he would probably want to read it again after talking to Lee, even against his better judgement, as if he needed to reassure himself of the document's existence.

It felt surreal to Bill, but apparently Laura had become a real politician after all.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes she wondered if any other president would be remembered the way she would be. She hadn't wanted to be remembered at all, really— as a mother, perhaps. As a friend, a teacher, maybe even a grandmother if the Gods blessed her. But she had never imagined she would be remembered as a president. A president who in the first week of her term had given orders that led to the death of her people not once, but twice.

_Twice._

She sighed in contemplation as her eyes covered the room that had become her office. It was empty now, very much like herself— she felt an emptiness inside her body, as if a piece of her soul had been eroded away along with the thousands she had guided to their deaths.

At least it distracted her from the cancer. It had been almost twenty-four hours since they had shot down one of their own and jumped away from the Cylons, and she had managed her time to the extreme; she had slept, eaten and then tackled the incredible amount of reports, agendas and concerns that her desk had held for the past five days. Billy had even forgotten about the doctor's appointment he had promised her, to Laura's delight. She was well aware that would not be the case for long, but it still felt like a little victory to her in an ocean of captains' reports.

As she took another document, she realized she had been in her office, in her chair, for more consecutive hours than she cared to admit, but it had to be done. She hadn't slept again after a seven-hour slumber, and neither had Billy— both of them had been existing on _Colonial One_ 's coffee supply ever since then. And if she had to admit it, it wasn't that good. The coffee machine at her apartment... she already missed it.

Everything had changed, really. Down to the frakking coffee, and even so that wasn't what she cared about at all: 1,300 people was a big percentage when the entire civilization consisted of less than fifty thousand human beings. She saw countless faceless people every time she closed her eyes, and yet— twenty-four hours without Cylons. It had been the right choice, the _only_ choice, but knowing it and coming to terms with it were two different things. And then Lee would join the blank faces, his features twisted in horror and rage directed at her. So yes, she could live with the less-than-good coffee if that meant not requiring sleep anytime soon.

Sitting up, she searched for a blank piece of paper in her desk. She pulled it closer with shaking hands, tearing off a corner at the bottom and writing the ship's name on it as steady as she could. Her handwriting stared back for a beat before Laura tucked it into her pocket, keeping her hand over the jacket's fabric until she felt strong enough to let go. She had to move on, but she wouldn't forget.

Her eyes darted to the whiteboard, and she stared at the number without blinking; she could recite it from memory by now. Interlacing her fingers across her stomach, she thought about the people currently aboard the remaining ships, the people represented by that number. She was protecting them, or so she hoped.

"Madam President." Billy walked through the curtain but she didn't tear her eyes from the whiteboard, her hands still firmly pressed against each other. "Madam President?"

"I'm sorry, you were saying something?" She turned towards Billy, who didn't correct her on how he hadn't technically said anything yet. He remained by the doorway, a single sheet of paper in his hand.

"Twenty-four hours, no Cylons. At least you know it was the right choice," he said quietly. He was trying to help her, she knew, trying to make her see they were all aware it had been the only option available. He was a sweet young man, undoubtedly— but sometimes the right choices could feel worse than the wrong ones, and he was just starting to learn that.

"The right choice?" She mumbled his words back to him and nodded, turning her sight once again to the whiteboard. Billy was a blessing from the Gods, but she wasn't in the right state of mind to fully appreciate his efforts. So when she realized he was still there, she stared at him and added, "I'm sorry, Billy, I think I'd like some time alone, please."

"Of course." Backing away and nodding immediately, he paused as he took a step to the curtain and spun to face her again, causing Laura to look up with a soft sigh.

"What is it?"

"Update on the head count." Billy slightly raised the piece of paper he held and she felt her stomach sink in anticipation. _Not this again_.

"Subtract how many?" she asked in a resigned tone, before noticing the glint in his eyes.

"Actually, you can add one." A smile appeared on his face as he delivered the news. "A baby was born this morning on the _Rising Star_. A boy."

"A baby?" She breathed the words as her mind caught up and Billy nodded. In the midst of running for their lives— jumping every thirty-three minutes, a small child had been brought into a world that desperately needed more children.

"Yup." He flashed her a full grin, evidently pleased with coming up to her office to inform her of something good for a change. She nodded in his direction.

"Thank you." He nodded again before disappearing from view, and she stood and moved over to the whiteboard, erasing the last number there to replace it with the new total as a smile grew slowly across her face.

_47,974_.

Every soul counted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! Writer's block punched me on the face halfway through the chapter. Right in time for NaNoWriMo, of all things.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me, and to my beautiful beta Jules for her insights.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Everybody’s playing the game, but nobody’s rules are the same._

 

* * *

 

"I... can't stop thinking about the _Olympic Carrier_ ," Lee informed him as they walked down the corridor on their way to the landing bay.

"That was three days ago, it's ancient history under these circumstances." But he had to admit that sometimes, it seemed like only yesterday. Getting a full night's sleep, proper meals, three whole days without enemy contact— those were commodities Bill was happy to have back. Most of his crew had never seen them as such, making them feel a sense of surrealism that only war brought, and his experience told him it would take them a while to get used to it. He glanced at Lee before speaking again. "Leave the second-guessing to the historians. I'm sure Val will rally them." His attempted joke was not received well as his son came to a halt and looked at him.

"But don't we have a responsibility?" he questioned, and Bill was pained to see the guilt painted all over his face. He shouldn't feel like that... that was for Laura and him alone. They had given the order, not Lee. "I mean as, as leaders don't we have an obligation to question our actions, to... I don't know, to make sure the decisions we make are the right decisions?" He spoke slowly, as if he doubted his own words; there was also a glint of hope in his eyes, expecting a reassurance that would somehow make his remorse disappear. Suddenly Lee seemed like a little kid again, looking up to his dad for answers, and it made Bill's heart ache. He didn't have any.

"We did what we had to do, son. A man takes responsibility for his actions, right or wrong," he murmured. Taking the _Carrier_ down had been the only choice, he knew that. And he needed Lee to understand it too. "He accepts the consequences and lives with them. Everyday." Lee's eyes shadowed in disappointment, Bill realized. He took a deep breath and gave his son's shoulder a gentle squeeze that didn't help as much as he wanted to and he took a mental note to mention it to Laura later. She had a better relationship with their kids, she should have something more useful to say to him.

"This piece of crap!" Tigh's sharp, loud voice interrupted them as the colonel appeared in the adjacent corridor. Glancing down at the leather sash in his hands, the senior officer joined them as both Adamas resumed their walk to the landing bay. By the looks of it, he wasn't having any joy with his wardrobe variant.

"You're in a good mood," Bill pointed out, slightly amused. He knew he shouldn't feel grateful for the distraction, but he was.

"I feel like crap," Tigh murmured, and Bill wondered if he was drunk. Wouldn't be the first time, given that he wasn't happy about the president's reception. But he showed none of the tell-tale signs of disguised inebriation when he shoved his gloves into Bill's hands; he could be rationing his reserves. Maybe. "Hold that," he asked, though it didn't sound like a question at all. Tigh then threw the sash over his head to place it along his left shoulder, his wings and decorations glinting under the passageway light, and glanced briefly at Lee. "She doesn't expect us to do this every time she comes aboard, does she?" As irreverent as he was, Tigh knew better than to complain in even worse terms in front of him.

Bill played with the gloves, not willing to meet the colonel's eyes as he said, "This was my idea."

"You?" Tigh snapped, and Lee looked at him with interest as well. "You hate this kind of thing."

"Start treating her like a president, she may start feeling like one. Since we have to work together, the better she feels, the easier she'll be for us." His voice lacked a real inflection as he gave Tigh his gloves back, waiting for Lee's retort on his plan. To his surprise, he didn't get any. "We're gonna be late," Bill added instead, and they quickened their pace to meet the entourage from _Colonial One_.

 

* * *

 

"Please don't tell me we have to go through this every time I step on that ship," she groaned as she put on her jacket. Laura had been aboard _Galactica_ almost half a dozen times since the attacks and she had never gone through this fanfare— couldn't they just keep going like that?

"No, ma'am, but they will always render honors for your arrival; it's protocol." He flashed her an apologetic smile, as if he had any control over the matter. It was sweet, really, that Billy was always worried about her.

"The military, they do love their protocol." She was keenly aware of that. Her ex-husband usually didn't care for it, but now that he was all that remained of the Fleet, she assumed his nostalgia was louder.

"I'm sure that if the commander knew you didn't like it, they'd be willing to—"

She shook her head immediately. Bill already _knew_ she didn't like it, she was half convinced he was putting her through this because of it; it certainly wasn't for his own sake. "No, let him sound the trumpets. It makes him feel more comfortable, to show off his ship. And if he feels more comfortable, he'll be a little easier to deal with." _Maybe even forget the president is 'just a schoolteacher'_ , she added in her mind. The other half of her knew what he hated the most was having to deal with a person filling the position by chance, in deep contrast with the military's lifelong careers. She was unpredictable, in a way. An uncertainty. Bill didn't like uncertainties.

"That's smart," Billy pointed out, clearly surprised. She had come to accept his innocence as a downside for his extreme efficiency and flashed him a motherly smile, the same one she used back when she taught little kids in her classroom.

"No, it's not smart. It's politics." She spoke quickly as she finished dressing and checked her reflection on the window. Her elected attire was a navy suit, the dark color remarkably similar to the soldiers' uniforms. It was no coincidence. Laura knew that the less her clothes stood out, the more familiar she seemed, the less threatening she would be to Bill. She had been a little reckless on purpose with her lavender skirt during the decommissioning, when she had nothing to lose; it was different now. Not that she had many options to choose from. "I think I'm going to get tired of this outfit, seeing as I only have three for the rest of my life."

A faint blush creeped across Billy's neck. "Looks fine," he assured her, his voice betraying him when it wavered.

She halted her movement and glanced at him, an amused smirk dancing on her lips. "Fine?"

"Uhm, it looks... great." He tried to amend it, as uncomfortable as he could only be and Laura snorted. Such a sweet boy.

She couldn't help but draw a parallel between Billy and Zak, back when he was a teenager, slowly and awkwardly learning under his brother's shadow. He had always fancied the same type of girls as Lee —making it seem like he was copying him, as with many other shared interests between them—, until he had flown with his own wings and met a particular classmate at flight school. She knew the girl was special just by listening to her son when he talked about her, which made it all the more sad that Laura had never met her.

"You don't know anything about women, do you?" she asked, and her eyes flickered to the end of the room that served as her office— to Val, who was organizing a set of documents to take with her to _Galactica_. Laura wasn't as blind as Billy was, her daughter blushing almost every time Billy spoke to her was usual to her now. And she could only hope— he would be a wonderful addition to the family.

"Shall we?" he said instead, choosing not to reply to her teasing; mostly because he had no idea of what else to say.

Nodding, Laura decided to let him off the hook. "Let's go be presidential."

She moved first, Billy and Val closing the retinue behind her. A couple of marines joined them when they stepped out of _Colonial One_ and into the battlestar's landing bay, all of which was familiar to her now, until— she went down the set of stairs and Commander Adama awaited there, along Colonel Tigh and with a group of officers positioned at both sides of the corridor carrying ceremonial rifles. For a second, she could have mistaken them for trumpets.

Bill saluted her in his practised fashion, and she mirrored the gesture as best as she could. "Madam President, it's a pleasure to welcome you aboard the battlestar _Galactica_ ," he said.

"Thank you, Commander. The pleasure is all mine." Flashing a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes, Laura followed him to the CIC, thinking he had only stopped short of _actual trumpets_ for her arrival, for frak's sake. She had only been joking earlier. The military had rendered honors to Richard on several events she had accompanied him to, but those had been different; granted, _this_ was different as well. She hadn't been on official business aboard a battlestar before _Galactica_ , but still... just how much did she know about the Fleet after all? Maybe not as much as she originally thought.

Or maybe, as she was inclined to believe, William Adama was putting up all of this just because it was _her_.

 

* * *

 

With the water replenishing exercise about to begin, Bill excused himself from Laura's side and joined Tigh over the Communications Center to supervise the procedure. His dress greys itched as he straightened, his body missing the usual uniform already even when he showed no signs of discomfort on his face. It had been his idea, after all.

"How is it going?" Tigh asked quietly, looking at Laura from behind as Lee walked to her.

Bill sighed. He'd never been fond of protocol, even less when the receiving end included a president like Richard Adar, but at least Laura was more deserving of this gesture than him. For what it was worth, Bill had accepted her role in the government... as long as she didn't interfere with the military. "I feel like..."

"A tour guide?" Tigh provided in unison with his own voice. Both men exchanged a glance and chuckled before Saul spoke again. "The _schoolteacher_ likes it that way, doesn't she? Another part of her tour aboard the Old Girl; one big educational experience."

He didn't answer, settling instead for a silent stare at her and Lee. Following Zak's death two years earlier, Bill had received information about his son's well-being in several ways, given that the latter wouldn't return his calls whatsoever. The easiest had been the Fleet itself, with records of his current status as an officer and his assignments. Then, Val had helped too, as she thought Lee's grudge was absolutely ridiculous. But Laura's relationship with Lee had always been exemplary, much like his was a complete mess; and so she had reached out to him every time something noteworthy happened.

For instance, she had invited him to Lee's promotion party some months earlier, no doubt without his knowledge or approval.

He had declined.

Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make sense of the movement of their lips with no avail. Bill wasn't on a good spot to catch a coherent sentence, as he couldn't glimpse at her mouth behind her auburn mane easily. He was sure, however, that the conversation revolved around _him_.

And he was correct. Keeping her voice as low as possible, she threw a glance in Lee's direction and whispered, "I don't remember him ever enjoying this so much." She knew better than to mix family issues with work, but she couldn't help it. The disdain in her tone was plain as day, carefully masked under a professional smile only.

"He's not," Lee replied.

She crossed her arms, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes. "It's alright." It had to be, they had divided their respective duties and _Galactica_ certainly wasn't hers. She had the rest of the fleet to worry about. But she had to admit —if only to herself— that the situation didn't appear particularly sustainable today; could she keep up the tenuous balance, the commander's undermining of her presidency, until they found a new place to call home? Or rather, until her cancer took her?

Laura's eyes fell on Billy. Her aide was talking to a pretty young woman, dressed in a green uniform she couldn't really place, as it wasn't the same one Lee wore. By the looks of it, however, he stuttered more than talked, and the realization shone in her green eyes: perhaps this girl was the reason he hadn't figured out Val's feelings towards him. Her first instinct, as a mother, was to call him under a petty excuse, to force him to get away from his attractive officer. But she couldn't get herself involved, of course. That was Val's fight, and hers alone. Yet Laura wished the presence of her daughter there instead of letting her to assist a lunatic like Baltar; at best, she would realize her need to make a move soon, at worst, she would avoid a bigger heartbreak.

"Madam President?" Lee called her, and by the sound of his words, it wasn't the first time. She turned her neck to face him, as if she had been lost in thought. "If I may, this gesture is for you."

"I know," she assured him, because _of course_ she knew. Her eyes looked straight ahead once again, somewhere over the command table in the middle of CIC, not willing to continue with that topic. As mad as she was with Bill, she didn't want to poison Lee's already bad opinion of him.

But Lee spoke again. "What I mean is, he's trying to make you feel like the president." He gave her time to process his words as he arched a brow and gave her a half smile, moving slightly closer to her. "Mom, this is for you," he repeated, this time lower.

Not knowing what to say, Laura examined Lee's features, just to make sure he meant it. He did, of course. And so, her mind worked fast as she reevaluated her earlier assumptions; she had been wrong in believing he wanted to undermine her again. He had agreed to work with her after fleeing Ragnar, hadn't he? Bill wasn't a bad person, he had loved her more than she was willing to remember. And above all, Bill Adama was an honorable man. She could trust that. "Thank you," she finally whispered, and Lee nodded in acknowledgment.

She turned around to find Bill still focused on his task. Glancing him up and down, from his face and down to his boots, Laura evaluated the stern figure in front of her. The grey uniform didn't look as good on him as the blue one, she noticed, as the navy fabric made the other tone of blue, in his eyes, even shinier. Those eyes... even behind glasses, Bill's eyes stood out with ease.

Her thoughts drifted off before she realized it, but were shut down quickly by a sudden movement of their surroundings and a loud noise. Laura braced herself against the half-wall behind her and Lee towered near her, ready to protect her if needed.

"Decompression alarm!" Gaeta shouted as the officers around CIC sprang into action, as well practiced as expected. Bill and Tigh strode to Damage Control and Laura followed, stopping a few steps behind.

Bill hastily asked for a report and Gaeta provided it, forcing him to veer the ship to keep the hull from getting further damage. The worst part, however, was that the measure couldn't prevent the water tanks from giving out. "Every tank in the port site has ruptured," Tigh confirmed as he read the screen. "We're venting all our water directly into space."

Bill grimaced. "As if this day wasn't interesting _enough_."

 

* * *

 

Little less than an hour later, a meeting was called to evaluate the damage sustained by the battlestar and the repercussions the lack of water would have on several other ships. Key crew members had been summoned besides the commanding and executive officers, along with the president, since civilians were affected as well, and Laura had insisted on bringing Baltar too in order to hear the report he was going to give before the accident. She knew Bill didn’t look forward to having the crazy genius with them, but he understood his value. And there was a plus side that drowned whatever complaint he could have: if he came, Val would have to tag along.

Therefore, Gaeta was the first to give a report, and after him Tigh went over their long range survey findings for possible planets with water, his voice grumpy, but even as he spoke. Bill immediately requested a squadron of Raptors to each of the five possible locations, and Lee carried it quickly; this gathering made Laura feel like she was seeing a well-oiled machine. _Galactica_ had proven to be one after all, but she was pleasantly surprised to know that, for all her son's talk about wanting to stay as away from the commander as he could, he took his orders without question. And he seemed comfortable doing so, too.

It was a small mercy for the peril the fleet found itself in. And so, with the task at hand, she asked, "Colonel, how likely are we to find water on any of these planets?"

"Now you want me to guess, I take it?" he bluntly replied, wearier of her than usual due to the way she had _interrogated_ Gaeta before. She smiled shrewdly as she narrowed her eyes, half amused by his attitude. Saul Tigh had never forgiven her for her decision to end her relationship with Bill, as if he had any right to be mad at her in the first place; in any case, she admired the man's unwavering loyalty to his best friend.

"Colonel," Bill warned next to her, his eyes down on the paper he'd been writing on as if trying to stay out of their specific unfriendly exchange. Like he wasn't related to it at all.

There was a lingering silence in the room and for a second, Laura wondered if Tigh would choose not to back down before he emitted a quiet, "Sir." He then lowered his eyes and she could almost _see_ the gears turning inside his head, creating his thoughts, until he looked at her again with a fire back in his gaze. "Well, my apologies to Madam President; difficult day for everyone," he murmured, a full flood of sarcasm inside his tone.

She nodded and her smile became a soft grin. "I understand." She wouldn't take his bait. For now.

"Most planets are just hunks of rock or balls of gas, the galaxy is a pretty barren and desolate place when you get right down to it," was all the explanation he offered.

"Thank you, Colonel," Bill interjected to close down matters; he wasn't going to allow a discussion like that for _his_ sake. He would need to speak to Saul later— remind him the president was to be respected always— and probably get a retort on how effortlessly she held his leash. Which wasn't _true_ , of course, she just happened to be their boss now...

"The water rationing will make our supply problem worse. Doctor Baltar, please show the results of your study," Laura instructed, not noticing the colonel's intent look on Bill as he moved to take his seat.

Baltar's eyes turned to her, focusing his gaze as he remembered he had not been there just to watch; the scientist quickly shuffled his papers in search for a unique document, or, perhaps, buying some time not to show he wasn't paying any attention to the meeting. Laura was learning that she could never know with the man.

It was Val, seated next to him, who handed him the paper he needed. The young woman had been assisting Baltar for the past days as he nailed down the consumption report, albeit reluctantly since she had never been good with numbers and Baltar wasn't the most entertaining company either. So he did as Laura asked and gave them a long list of food the fleet required— including a worrisome amount of water. Per week.

She let a tired sigh escape her lips as she considered just exactly how the odds stacked against them once again. They were lucky to have agricultural vessels amongst their ships, but _Galactica_ 's water supplies were absolutely needed in order to survive.

"Commander, Chief Tyrol reported back, sir," a marine stationed at the door informed, and Bill promptly ordered to let him in.

The deckhand was evidently distressed as he walked to the dais, clearing his throat when he faced them. Whatever him and his crew had discovered was even more disturbing that the loss of water. "Uhm, so far, we've found five discreet detonation points in the tank. And we believe there may be a sixth," he explained slowly, like he wanted to stall his report. As he kept talking, though, Laura realized his hesitancy was due to the crew's own oversights. "I've suspected, due to the size of the residual scoring and the burn points that we're dealing with a G4 type explosive. So I requested a spot check of all inventories from the master of arms, and she indicated to me that there are six detonators missing from the small arms locker in the port flight pod." He eyed Bill nervously. "So one detonator may still be unacquainted for."

"Have the master at arms post guards at all small arms lockers immediately," he ordered, almost as an instinctive response.

"It's already done, sir. She also is opening an investigation into who may have had access to that locker. However, due to, uhm..." Tyrol made a new pause, unsure how to admit the next bit. "Spotty record keeping and lack of internal security procedures since the attack, she believes that we may never know who took the detonators."

Bill stared at his chief for a while without blinking, as harsh as they were used to seeing him, until he finally leaned towards Laura. "You know what this means."

"Yes," she whispered back.

"I'll clear the room," he added, and she hummed in agreement. "Chief, thank you very much. Everyone except for Colonel Tigh, Captain Adama and Doctor Baltar are now released. Please remember this briefing is strictly confidential."

The rest of the officers and civilians took their leave, including the marines stationed at the door. Val stood from her chair and walked over to Billy's, where they both made their way to the exit. Bill left his seat as well, rubbing his face as he got to the central zone of the ward room; and Laura's gaze steeled as she focused on his movements.

"There's at least one Cylon aboard the _Galactica_."

Perhaps that was the reason why the fleet had no enemy contacts for three days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your continued support! This time, the fleet dodges yet another crisis, and there's a conversation about books ;)
> 
> Also, the next chapter will be a special one. Stay tunned!

_Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself._

 

* * *

 

 

Rather than complaining about her lack of clearance for the rest of the meeting, Val was relieved to leave the ward room; of all the miscellaneous stuff she had helped with aboard _Colonial One_ since the attacks, being Baltar's assistant was the one she had disliked the most. By a long stride.

"I didn't expect to have to deal with this much paperwork. Ever," she jokingly stated as they stopped short of the exit of the ward room. Billy grinned.

"You'll get used to it," he guaranteed. The amount of documents he reviewed and produced had increased substantially now that his boss was the president of humanity, but he was completely fine with it as he was more than satisfied with his chance of helping the government. He clutched the papers he held a little tighter as they began walking again, this time to _Colonial One_. The battlestar was still a war vessel, which made them more useful the less they got in the crew's way.

"I hope not," Val murmured, snorting. The small mercy was that at least now that the scientist had finished the consumption report, she was once again free to use her time elsewhere. Or so she hoped. Baltar was about to get a lab on _Galactica_ and she would be of no use there, science and numbers were not her strong suit. She would eventually find something else to do aboard the presidential ship.

They turned right by the next junction, following the same path they had taken from the landing bay to the ward room backwards. Or rather, Billy followed Val, as no matter where he went the aide still couldn't orient himself around the battlestar. Several officers passed by, most of them faces they had never seen before, nodding politely as they went on with their assigned duties. It amazed Billy— as a citizen of the Colonies, he knew the basics of military life, but seeing Dee and the others in action was entirely different.

"You never told me— what did you want to do before the attack? What was your plan?" he asked after a while. The passageway they were currently walking through finally felt familiar to him, making him believe they were near the landing bay now.

"The Delphi Museum of History." She didn't look at him, focusing on the way ahead with a sad smile on her lips. "I loved visiting it when I was little, hearing the story of how we left Kobol to find the Colonies and all that. So when I grew up, I realized I wanted to be part of their staff, maybe be in charge of it one day... or any other museum that would have me, I'm not picky. I also gave some thought to following the family tradition of teaching for a few years as well, but... maybe down the line." She fell silent of a sudden and lowered her eyes, focusing her gaze on the deck just in front of her feet. "Doesn't matter, anyway. The Colonies' history is lost now."

Billy pursed his lips into a thin line, trying to come up with the right words to say while he pressed the papers he held against his chest once again. In the end, he flashed her what he hoped would be a reassuring smile. "You'll find something you'd like to do in the fleet."

She forced herself not to blush as she nodded. "Anything is better than this," she said. When he didn't answer, she eyed him and added sheepishly, "Sorry. It's just... Baltar and all."

"It's okay."

Val opted to bail herself with a change of topic. "You know my story now, Billy Keikeya. It's time to hear yours," she murmured. Billy had been there for her and her mother since the attacks, but she hadn't had the opportunity to do the same for him since she knew virtually nothing about the man.

"Well... My first option was the Ministry of Commerce, but the position was unavailable when I applied," he admitted quietly, as if it was some sort of betrayal to his boss. "I had to look elsewhere. I'm glad President Roslin took me in."

"I see you like politics, huh?"

He nodded. "I want to make a difference; to help people have a better future. The government is supposed to do that."

He had a good, empathic heart, the right ideals and a wish to help his fellow citizens in any way he could. No wonder Laura Roslin cared so much about him already, Val thought as her stomach flipped pleasantly. _And she's not the only one_ , she reminded herself, feeling as her cheeks grew redder by the second.

"And you left your family on Picon to do that," she stated, trying to focus on the conversation before she said something potentially embarrassing.

"My sisters lived there," he confirmed. "So my parents moved there to be with their grandchildren. My parents and their dog, Jake."

Val smiled fondly, picturing him petting a medium-sized, generic brown dog, and surrounded by a remarkably large family. "I wish I could have met them. They must have been so proud of you."

"Yeah, I think they were," he answered simply as they arrived to the landing bay, _Colonial One_ dwarfing everything around it as the ship occupied most of the space available.

 

* * *

 

As Laura arrived to the commander's quarters, the marines stationed outside informed her he wasn't inside yet. She went in anyway, taking a seat on the couch to wait as she assumed he had to be on his way.

But Bill took longer than she anticipated, and she grew bored. She got up after a few minutes of waiting to explore his chambers now that she had the chance, his impressive bookcase in particular. Walking slowly, she made her way to the dozens of titles it held; spotted some familiar books and took one out, caressing the cover before opening it. The third page greeted her with a message in her own handwriting.

_I think you'll like this one. Happy birthday!_  
Love,  
Laura.

She couldn't help but smile at it. Those were simpler times, before Bill got reinstated in the Fleet, before she chose to stay alone and raise her kids mostly on her own. And before her sisters and father died as well.

Laura placed the novel back in its place, trying to keep the memories at bay: Sandra had helped her pick that book. She recognized several other volumes from their shared collection a lifetime ago, while many others had come after Laura, along with some that were meant to replace the ones she had taken with her. The world collapsed on her and the precious cellulose that held her total attention, retracing the spines with her fingertips. Oblivious as she was, she didn't notice the sound of footsteps coming from the open hatch.

"Please excuse me for keeping you..." Bill said as he walked inside, stopping next to the bookcase when he realized what she was doing, a confused look on his face. At the unspoken question, she whipped her hand away quickly, as if the contact suddenly burned. "Waiting. I was called in the engine room," he finished a couple of seconds later.

"It's alright." She entwined her fingers in front of her, pretending as if nothing happened, her politician smile plastered on her lips almost by instinct. "I was just looking at your books, your collection has grown admirably," she added. And, of course, casually ignoring _she_ was the reason it had been diminished in the first place.

Bill looked at her for a beat, then another, before he mirrored her smile. It was certainly similar to hers, as it didn't reach his eyes either. "I'll just take a moment." He walked away across his desk in the direction of the head.

She didn't answer, closing her eyes instead and mentally scolding herself for... whatever. Everything, maybe. Dealing with Bill wasn't easy, not when they were supposed to work so closely now. But she chose to ignore what had just happened as she opened her eyes and walked away from the bookcase, even when her gaze was still enthralled by it. So many novels, when her own were lost...

"Would you mind if I borrow a book or two?" she asked without thinking, even though she knew the answer before she spoke. But she had to give it a try. It was only a matter of time until she grew desperate with nothing new to read, so perhaps the now usual workload would be a welcome distraction before too long. "I... only brought one with me on the flight to _Galactica_."

Laura began to wonder if he hadn't heard her when his answer came from across the room. "Which book?"

" _Murder on Picon_ ," she admitted, and she could have sworn Bill emitted a low chuckle, probably amused by her predictable choice of genre. A mystery.

The commander emerged back a few seconds later, clasping his hands together as he made his way back. He came to a halt a few steps from her, the usual aura that made him seem taller than he actually was walking with him; anyone that wasn't Laura would have recoiled by now. His stern blue eyes pierced into her, unyielding. "I don't lend books," he reminded her.

"Yes, I know," she was quickly to acknowledge. "However... I was hoping you'd do an exception. This time," she said. He'd feel horribly withdrawn in her position as well, wouldn't he? Prevented from taking a peek at literature? That was her only hope.

"I don't make a habit of breaking my rules, Madam President." He walked past her and Laura forced her sight to the roof to prevent herself from saying something that she would later regret; the man was as obnoxiously stubborn as she recalled. She took a deep breath to calm down, and when she looked at him again, Bill was standing in front his bookcase. Narrowing her eyes,  she followed his movement as he explored the shelves, as if looking for something.

Maybe he would agree if she kept the books inside his quarters? She discarded the idea almost instantly, as he would probably want some privacy during his time off to spend with Carolanne. While she remained aboard _Colonial One_ with her one book. Just frakking fantastic.

Bill didn't notice her inner turmoil, focusing his gaze on his large collection of books instead. He lowered his body to reach one of the lower shelves and extract a particular novel from it, with a cover Laura didn't recognize. Before she could ask about it, however, the man turned to face her, took his glasses off, cleared his throat and handed her the book.

Puzzled, she eyed the title as Bill spoke; _Dark Day_ was written in bold, golden letters against the brick-colored cover. "You still haven't read it, I assume?"

"No. I kept forgetting about this one..." she confessed. It was embarrassing, really, that a high regarded classic had slipped by her all these years.

To her surprise, Bill flashed her a soft smile. "Hope you enjoy it."

"But— didn't you just say..."

"Never lend books," he repeated, a tender tone this time. "This is a gift."

She shook her head. "No, I can't accept it."

"Please."

And her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth as she whispered, "Thank you." The corners of her lips twitched upwards and tears pricked her eyes, as memories stirred by Bill left a void deep in her chest she didn't know she had until now. Or perhaps it was new, she wasn't sure. But why now? She had made a decision all those years ago and _knew_ it was the right one.

Her unspoken question was met with a silence of his own. Laura brought the book close to her, chest feeling less alone than she thought she was despite the vacuum left by her sisters, by Bill, by the family home now occupied by her alone ever since her kids moved out to pursue their own future. And by the cancer, the new unwanted companion she wouldn't talk about until it was too late.

But then, the president remembered why she had come to speak to him in the first place; the awkward reality check they had to address before the fleet slipped out of control.

"A riot broke on one of the cruise ships," she blurted out, making Bill frown in concern. "Colonel Tigh was right about reducing rations."

"I see." He took off his glasses and pointed to the couch, following Laura as she took a seat. _Dark Day_ was left on the spot next to her, discarded for the time being as her hands rested on her lap.

"We need to demonstrate an ability to maintain order, and we need to do it now."

He didn't like where she was going with this. Any other president requesting the same thing would have all but declared war against civilians. "We don't have enough man power for fleet security," he murmured, which was partially true. The battlestar had been running with a smaller crew than any other ship her size before the attacks.

"You have the only armed, disciplined force available," she reasoned.

"But we're the military, not policemen." Laura hummed, tilting her head. "And there's a reason why we separate military and the police. One fights the enemy of the State, the other serves and protects the people. When the military becomes both, the enemies of the State tend to become the people."

"I'm aware. This is a complex matter, but I won't let that happen. The reality is that we don't have anyone else to protect the fleet from possible threats outside _and_ inside the ships, other than the men and women of _Galactica_." She would need to create an organized security force that didn't answer to Bill but her directly, both to keep peace within the population and to protect the president of the Colonies, but that required time she did not have at the moment. "I pray this is be a temporary solution, but we _need_ it right now."

She was right once again, he knew that. For a person who had never craved the power she now held, Laura was proving to be a reasonable president so far and they both knew the security personnel scattered around the fleet wasn't designed to contain the current situation. "I'll send troops to the cruise ship," he sighed.

She gently placed a hand on his arm, trying to ease his concern. "Commander, I won't let that happen. Thank you."

"I need something in return," he said, choosing to ignore the sweet tingle her warmth created as it spread through his body. A sensation she was clearly unaware of.

"Oh?"

"It's Lee," he explained. "He didn't take what happened with the _Olympic Carrier_ well."

Laura nodded. How could she forget she had tasked her son with taking down a civilian ship? She had been sleeping as little as possible to prevent the guilt —her own and Lee's— from taking hold and overwhelming her; she couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like for him. "I'll talk to him."

 

* * *

 

 

Bill went back to CIC shortly after, parting with Laura by a corridor that lead her to her own ship. He noticed Saul following his movements as he approached Dee for a report on the Raptors, his XO joining him promptly to discuss the information gathered as most of the reconnaissance ships reported back. So far, the lack of findings was troublesome.

"So, what did she want?" Tigh asked as they walked to the Command and Control table in the middle of the room and waited for the last Raptor, Boomer's, to come back.

"A riot broke on a cruise ship," he replied, not needing to take his sight from the star charts spread over the flat surface to feel the smug smirk Saul had to suppress. Having Laura admit he was right was reward enough, given that a riot was never good news. "I'm sending a marine squad for crowd control."

The colonel's brows shot upward, the surprise plain on his face. "Sending troops against civilians doesn't sound like a good idea, Bill."

"It's not _against_ civilians, we're trying to protect them."

"Just because _she_ thinks that's the solution doesn't make it right."

Bill took a step closer and gazed harshly at his XO, their faces mere inches from each other. "Getting tired of the little war you insist on having with the president," he warned through clenched teeth. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me. Whatever your feelings towards her for my sake, you leave them for when you're _not_ wearing your uniform, understand?"

Despite the agitated look in his eyes, the man straightened in his spot without questioning him further. "Yes, sir."

He took a step back and started to regret his words immediately, knowing Saul's reaction when it came to Laura was a byproduct of his unwavering loyalty. While it was unquestionably ill-advised now that she had been sworn in as president of the Colonies, Bill could tell he was only acting as his best friend; albeit over magnifying matters and throwing his professionalism out the airlock. It wouldn't be the first time it happened, though.

Letting the air fill his lungs to their maximum capacity, Bill took mental note to speak with the colonel in private, after they both cooled down. And preferably not in the middle of CIC. They couldn't keep going on like this; it was one thing to hate his ex-wife when she meant nothing besides that, but that was not the case anymore. "Listen—"

"Sir, DRADIS just picked up Boomer's Raptor," Dee informed, and Bill decided to leave Tigh's matter for later.

"Let's hear it." The officer nodded and pressed several buttons on her dashboard, putting the Raptor through the speakers.

" _Galactica_ , Crashdown," a male voice chimed in. "DRADIS sweeps indicate it's time to break out the swimsuits because we've found water! Repeat, positive water contact!"

The crew in CIC broke into applause everywhere, celebrating the well-earned victory. A smile broke on Bill's lips, both at the discovery of water and the ridiculous way Crashdown had chosen to break the news, and turned his head towards his XO. When their eyes met, Tigh flashed a smile of his own.

The drilling operations were required to start right away, but for the moment, he and Saul could have a drink.

 

* * *

 

It was just past eight in the evening, according to Laura's watch, when Lee boarded _Colonial One_ to meet her. She still didn't have the right perception of night and day that the standardized time dictated across the fleet, however, as her body was proving resilient against the lack of sunlight.

And there was the matter of her sleep schedule too, of course. Between those dreadful six days that followed their escape from Ragnar, when sleep was a comfort she couldn't have, and the next few in which she chose to remain awake whenever she could to prevent nightmares related to the _Olympic Carrier_ , she wasn't expecting on getting used to the right time just yet.

And so, most of her time was spent in front of her desk, despite Billy's complaints on her health issues. It was there where her children found her, apparently having chatted all the way from the cargo bay, now fully repurposed as a landing bay for Vipers and Raptors. Lee knocked on the frame, even though the curtain was open and Laura saw them approaching, and went in after her nod and a quick goodbye to Val.

"Thank you for coming," she began, leaving her chair and meeting him half way in a keen embrace. Lee relaxed in her arms as he hugged her back and breathed heavily; their combined responsibilities had prevented them from a mother and son chat since the day before the decommissioning ceremony.

"Of course, Mom," he replied, pulling back a moment later. Laura smiled sweetly as she guided him to one of the passenger seats and took the one next to him. "Is everything okay?"

"That's exactly what I want to ask you. I know you were in charge of the mission that destroyed the _Olympic Carrier_." She spoke softly, earning a sharp surge of pain in her heart when his blue eyes gained a lifeless look when she mentioned the ship's name. "I know what a hard thing that is to live with, for all of us. I'm struggling with it myself, frankly. For giving the order and putting you in that position."

"I understand it had to be done, it's just..." he murmured swiftly, but when he didn't elaborate any further, Laura leaned closer and reached for his hands. He flashed a curt smile before admitting, "I can't stop thinking about it."

She squeezed his hands between hers in an affectionately manner. "Oh, Lee. I'm sorry. I hope you'll be able to forgive me, someday."

Lee closed his eyes and after a beat, shook his head. "I don't— there's nothing to forgive. I understand," he repeated. "Besides, a man has to accept responsibility for his actions. He doesn't second-guess the choices he makes. He lives with them, everyday."

Laura almost scoffed at the statement, it was like hearing Bill Adama in the flesh. No wonder why he had asked her to talk to their son, it was a terrible advice for this particular circumstance! Her ex-husband was a soldier to the core, while Lee was not. He wouldn't carry on with his orders without thinking them through first, and it was that particular habit that had usually evolved into guilt.

"Do you remember when Richard Adar sent marines into Aerilon? Fifteen people died," she asked instead and he nodded. It had been a tumultuous time for the president and his cabinet, her included, until the dust had settled and the media calmed down. "In public, of course, he had to say the usual things: He was sure of what he'd done, he made the right choice... but he knew it was a mistake." She took a deep breath as she tried to steady her voice without giving herself away; her words hit close to home in more ways than one. She knew that hiding her cancer to her children was a mistake, but one she had to make anyway. "He kept the names of the dead in his desk drawer. Said that it was imperative for a leader to remember and learn from their mistakes, even if they can't admit to them publicly."

Lee frowned and slowly moved his hands away. "You think we made a mistake?" She followed suit, straightening her pose for an instant before she introduced her fingers inside the right pocket of her jacket.

"I don't know," she confessed as she extracted a torn piece of paper and showed to him. Although her handwriting was shaky, the words _Olympic Carrier_ could still be read. "I don't have a desk drawer yet, but I have a pocket."

His grin, while soft, lighted up the room in Laura's eyes. She longed to hug him once more but restrained herself from another affectionate gesture, at least until they discussed the second topic she had in mind. Instead, she crossed her legs and rested an elbow on top of them, leaning forward.

"I know my fair bit of the military, but I'm acutely aware I'm not one of you. So, I feel the necessity to appoint a personal military advisor," she told him. "You'd be my first choice, but we both know I can't have you. And I don't want to add to your burdens either." Lee chuckled at her choice of words and she flickered a smile as well.

"Well, uhm, my father is the senior military officer. He should advice you," he mentioned awkwardly.

"Oh no, I don't mean to go behind his back," she was quickly to amend, shaking her head. "Nothing like that. I'm not looking for military advice, but rather advice about the military. I know what a Viper is, what your pips and wings represent, and even dealt with the admiralty back in the Colonies," she recounted, "but I have little insight about military life. I need to change that, and perhaps even change my overall impression." She grimaced at that, failing to make a joke as she had originally intended. Lee and his siblings had grown up knowing the reason of their parent's divorce, so what was the point anyway? "All I need is a candidate."

"And this is where I come along," he guessed and Laura hummed affirmatively. Remaining in silence for a while, he mentally listed all his pilots' names until he realized there was only one he could suggest. After all, she was the person he knew the most from the battlestar's Air Wing, having met the rest just a over a week before. "Lieutenant Kara Thrace." He spoke with complete certainty. "She's not your usual pilot, but still believes in doing what's right. And she's been on probation more times than she should, _Galactica_ was her only chance at an assignment. I think you'll like her."

Laura smiled again. "Alright." But then, something tingled in recognition at the back of her head. "Where have I heard that name before?" she mused aloud.

With a guilty look, Lee admitted, "Yeah... She was Zak's girlfriend." Lee decided not to describe her as his _fiancé_ , since he was aware his brother never got the chance to tell her. And he knew it was the right choice when she parted her lips in surprise, as if to say something, but nothing came out and she closed her mouth again. It was better that way. "Dad met her at the service and offered her a spot when he learned that no other battlestar would take her in," he explained.

"She must be close to your father," Laura reasoned, no longer convinced about it.

"It doesn't make a difference, does it?" He wasn't even going to deny it, it was too obvious for that. "She found a family in the military, but that doesn't stop her from voicing her opinion whenever she can. She's perfect for the job."

Her lips pursed together, Laura evaluated her options in her mind. And despite her caution regarding Bill's relationship with this Kara, her curiosity got the better of her as she finally had the chance to meet her. "Okay. Tell her to come as soon as possible. Thank you."

 

* * *

 

 

This time, Laura awaited her visitor seated on her desk, her glasses low on her nose's bridge as she read a report from the _Rising Star_. Kara, dressed in the same blue uniform Lee wore during his own trip to the presidential ship, came to a halt before the curtain door, an unsure look plastered on her face.

Laura locked eyes with her over the rim of her glasses. "Come in," she said, her eyes following her as the pilot closed distances with her. It was the young woman who had been by Bill's side during Zak's funeral, she could still remember her pretty features obscured by puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Laura had been unable to follow a conversation that day, however, so they hadn't exchanged a single word during the ceremony. "Please, take a seat." Kara did as she was told. "I must admit my surprise when I learned you were here, Lieutenant Thrace, but thank the Gods you were. It is very nice to meet you, at last."

There was a flicker of shock on her face, but she recovered quickly. "You know who I am?"

"Yes. And what you meant to Zak."

"Is that why I'm here?" she asked, growing uncomfortable in her seat. Laura ignored her demeanor and shook her head slightly.

"No. I need advice on the military, and Captain Adama suggested your name. I want you to be my advisor."

"Why me?"

"Because I need insight into military life. And you seem to have a particular one, since I was informed about your _brushes_ with authority."

"I've had a few," she accepted, smirking shamelessly as she finally appeared to relax. But her expression died as hastily as it came to be when she continued, "But I can't. Ma'am."

"Why? You can keep your day job with the pilots," she assured her. "Or is it about Zak?"

Kara shook her head, a little too quickly for her taste, giving the impression it _was_ about her son after all. "It's not," she replied, and Laura decided not to push it for now. "I owe the Old Man a great deal, I can't work for you and him at the same time. It's... awkward."

Sighing, she took her glasses off and left them on the desk, near her elbow, and entwined her fingers over the hard surface. "We've managed to work with each other despite what happened between us. So can you."

"You're not taking a no for an answer, are you?"

"Not if I can help it, no."

"Okay. Okay, I'll accept it if you answer me some questions," she murmured. "Don't like them, don't answer. And I won't work for you," she finished, bolder than what Laura had taken her for. She should have expected it, though, by the amount of reports Lee claimed she had.

The president agreed to her terms with a nod. "Go ahead."

"Did you love him?"

The simplicity of it almost took Laura by surprise, and made her wonder where the younger woman was going with all this. "Of course I did. I married him."

"Then why did you leave him?" she asked next.

In any other situation, Kara's venture into her personal life would have been incredibly rude, but she found herself wanting to give at least a short explanation of her side of the story to her. As the woman who held Zak's heart until his death, she wanted the lieutenant to _know_ about her in her own words and not Bill's opinion, or even her sons'.

"It wasn't lack of love. We didn't end our marriage in bad terms. Just, eventually, we had irreconcilable differences that couldn't be patched up."

But Kara wasn't convinced. "With all your respect, ma'am, that sounds like a polite bunch of crap."

Laura snorted, sprawling her body against the back of her cushioned seat. She then crossed her arms and gazed at the irreverent pilot with an incredibly neutral look in her eyes. She wasn't mad, even though she had enough cause to be. "You don't know what it's like to wake up one day and realize the path you're travelling is miles away from the guy sleeping next to you, and only seeing it then," she offered. "Is it enough of a reason now?"

"Y-yeah." She was startled about the sudden confession, Laura realized. The young officer had a long way to go on those matters, and while she wouldn't count herself out yet, she had learned a great deal on her failed marriage and the relationships that had come after that. "I'm sorry," Kara said then, perhaps as a reflex, or perhaps she did feel it.

"I suppose it's only fair. You're within your right to learn about Zak's family with everything that has happened. Now that we're here." She uncrossed her arms again and gestured around, the remnants of the passenger liner that now served as a presidential vessel. "It seems that it took the end of the world for Adama and me to speak again."

"We didn't know it then, during the decommissioning," Kara mumbled, conceivably more to herself, and Laura didn't correct her. But to her and Bill, the end of the world had come some time before the Cylons' return: he was about to leave his beloved life, the military, and she had received the news of her cancer.

"Is this your standard procedure upon meeting your superiors? Interrogating them about their personal lives?" she asked instead with a glint of humor. It had the desired effect, as Kara flashed her a genuine smile.

"No, ma'am, they usually tell me on their own," she joked. Laura wasn't sure whether it was true or not, but before she made a plan to get her to elaborate, the lieutenant added, "And everybody knows about Tigh's wife. That mess is hardly a secret."

She nodded again, knowing when not to push her luck. "So, are you going to be my advisor?"

Kara took a slow, deep breath. "I guess I will."

"Perfect," she said, and smiled.

Kara mirrored the gesture with less conviction, and waited until Laura dismissed her to raise to her feet and walk out the room. The older woman followed her departure until she turned the corner with a certain curiosity, not knowing what to think about her. Was she nervous because she was a stranger? Because she happened to be Zak's mother? Or because she saw her as a rival of her commanding officer? Whatever it was, at least she had procured a military advisor according to plan. Lieutenant Thrace would certainly help her achieve less misunderstandings with Bill from now on.

Laura stood up as well in the direction of her private quarters, another area stripped of its original purpose to accommodate for the new needs of the people on board. After changing into her nightclothes, she slipped under the covers of the sofa that had become her bunk, grabbed _Dark Day_ and opened by the first page. The book had no handwritten message, which Laura didn't expect anyway, but evoked some others that did to her memory after seeing them earlier. Despite the quick inspection of Bill's bookshelf, she was sure all the books she had gifted him were there. All filled with a few words in her calligraphy and some of them mementos of her own time with her father and sisters.

As she began reading and fell asleep, still wearing her glasses and hugging the book above her middle, her thoughts drifted into dreams that selfishly made their way towards Bill and her deceased family.


End file.
